


Entanglements

by LittleLinor



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Budding Relationship, M/M, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 13:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17601890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: Chrono decides to make a scarf for Ibuki's birthday. Everything is more complicated than he expected, and the knitting itself is the least of it.





	Entanglements

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look I actually finished Ibuki birthday fic on time this year!
> 
> This is a slightly different take on the relationship compared to my last few fics (with more awkward beginnings), so there's no real continuity there, just saying.  
> Also, BFFs Chrono + Kumi is important

Before he started knitting, there were things that Chrono would never have guessed about yarn.  
The first was how paradoxically soft _and_ rough it could be, plush and fluffy one second as he strokes it and harsh the next when running a single strand through his hand at high speed.  
The second was how much hell a ball of yarn could be. Someone could have warned him that the things had a mind of their own.  
He'd started in December, thinking he'd have all the time in the world to finish. But between all the times he messed up, couldn't find why or how to fix it and had to undo ten minutes of work, all the times his yarn got itself horribly tangled the moment he took his eyes of it, working on decorating the shop for Christmas and then New Year, studying for his second attempt at the Clan Leader exam that was soon approaching, and _then_ being begged by a panicked Mamoru to come help with an event at the last minute after a flu epidemic sent half his staff to stay-at-home limbo, well, suddenly it was a good part of the way into January, and the scarf was barely approaching one fourth of its planned length.  
Chrono was a fairly optimistic person, but things were starting to look rather dire.  
As such, the second half of January officially became Scarf Territory. He was going to get this done no matter what, even if it meant dragging his work to school and work so he could get a row or two in during his breaks.  
And since Mikuru couldn't help him with his constant mistakes (she knew the basics, but taking care of him ever since he was a baby hadn't left her with enough time to learn better, even if she'd wanted to), there was only one place left that he could appeal to.  
“Kumi,” he begged, bowing dramatically as she entered the classroom, “I need your help.”

“You're doing pretty well so far,” she said, inspecting his work. “It's surprisingly even for a beginner.”  
Chrono stared at what looked to him like a battlefield of holes and hills and wondered what 'uneven for a beginner' was like.  
“It's taken me over a month to get to this point, though,” he sighed. “I keep making mistakes and having to unravel, and then half the time I don't catch things right when I do… it's a mess.”  
She gave his shoulder a comforting pat.  
“Did your aunt teach you?”  
“No… I looked it up online,” he admitted, looking away.  
“Aww, that's so sweet, though,” she said, making his cheeks heat up even more. “Well then, how about you show me during lunch break? I can watch you and tell you when you're making mistakes, and I'll explain so it comes easier if you do have to fix things.”  
“Thank you,” he said, holding back tears.  
“Can I come?” asked Kazuma, who'd apparently slid into their bubble unnoticed.  
Chrono eyed him in suspicion.  
“You're not coming to make fun of me, are you?”  
Kazuma rolled his eyes.  
“No, I want to hear the master's advice, okay.”  
Kumi beamed.  
“Kazuma, you knit too?”  
“N-no,” he stammered. “But I figured—it might come handy someday.”  
Kumi smiled. 

“Careful! You just stabbed your needle in the wrong way!”  
“Huh?”  
She pointed to the stitch he'd just slid his second needle into.  
“You need to knit this one, but you started it like you're about to purl.”  
“… oh.”  
“And it looks like you were about to wrap your yarn around like you're knitting anyway… let me show you.”  
He carefully handed her the needles. She took them, confidently wrapping the trailing yarn around her fingers.  
“See, if you do it this way, the loop won't pull through properly… see what it looks like? But if you put your needle in like that, then you go around, you can pull the loop right in without any trouble. See?”  
“Oh… yeah.”  
“One way to remember it is that you're poking the needle out where your loop needs to come _from_ , and bringing it back to where it's supposed to be. So the place you enter with the needle is where your stitch will be at the end. Does that make sense?”  
“… sort of? My head kinda hurts but maybe it'll make sense when I try.”  
“Here, do it again. Slowly.”  
“Okay… So for this one I push it in from behind… loop my yarn… this way, right?”  
“Yes!”  
“And pull it back… then I move the yarn here… stab from the front… okay, I think I get it.”  
“It's easier when you don't have to look back to the screen all the time, huh?”  
He chuckled.  
“You have no idea. Okay, I'm gonna try to finish this row. Tell me if I'm doing something wrong.”  
“I will, I will,” Kumi said, picking up a rolled omelette from the lunch box he'd brought with him.  
“So who's the scarf for, anyway?” Kazuma asked, picking at his own lunch.  
“Kazuma, rude!” she exclaimed.  
“What!?”  
“The matters of the heart are delicate… you can't just _ask_ those things…”  
“You say that like you wouldn't be the first to ask!”  
“Maybe… but _I_ can put two and two together and not be indiscreet at the worst times.”  
“… what?”  
“It's for Ibuki,” Chrono sighed, finishing his row and showing it to Kumi for inspection.  
“… o… kaaaay? I didn't know you two were on scarf giving basis.”  
“We're dating.”  
“Oh, rea—wait, _what!?_ ”  
“You didn't know?” Kumi asked.  
“No! Why does no one tell me these things!”  
“I haven't exactly been screaming it from rooftops,” Chrono pointed out. “It just… happened. We're trying to not be too public about it so I didn't go around telling everyone!”  
“So how come Kumi knows?”  
“Because I'm good at these things and figured it out on my own! It looks good to me,” she told Chrono, handing him back his scarf. “Keep going.”  
“Don't just—how long has this been going on anyway?!”  
“Not long after my birthday.” He gave him a side smile. “Sorry for not telling you, I guess I just… for a while it felt like it was too good to be true and if I really talked about it I'd wake up and reality would take over. I didn't want to boast about it when it took us so long to really figure out what we wanted.”  
“… that makes sense,” he sighed. “I guess if I got with someone I really liked I wouldn't want to tell everyone either.”  
“Well, I would,” Kumi said. “These things are supposed to be enjoyed~”  
“You can enjoy them privately,” Chrono pointed out.  
“Not if you need your amazing friends' help with crafts,” she hummed. “So how's that row going?”

Overall, it wasn't too bad. Of course, Kumi told Tokoha, who then proceeded to send him a photo on line every time she walked in front of a shop that selled yarn (how many of those did France have anyway), and Shion came to Card Capital on purpose once just to see him knit and take a picture to remember it, but it was gentle teasing, and he could feel their support through it. The same way their teasing when he'd actually gotten with Ibuki had been warm and encouraging, all the 'FINALLY' messages getting across that they believed in him, and in them. He could deal with a little embarrassment.  
Taiyou was more directly supportive.  
“I'm sure he'll be very happy to wear something you made for him,” he said when Chrono started having second thoughts about whether it would fit with the rest of Ibuki's usual outfits, “especially if it's in your colours!”  
Sometimes, Chrono thought Taiyou understood a little too much.  
“Well… I hope so, because I sure don't have time to start again from scratch,” Chrono sighed. Thankfully, the cold that had settled on the city for the last week had made Card Capital fairly deserted, so he had plenty of time to work on his knitting in peace when he wasn't busy with restocking or cleaning. He was even starting to do it at a decent pace! Almost.  
“How many days do you have lef—” He trailed off as the bell over the door rang, then suddenly straightened, his eyes going wide. “Mister Ibuki!” He called out, unusually loud and tense.  
Chrono almost choked, and scrambled to push his stitches up his needles so he could put the whole thing away—  
Taiyou ran to the door, out of his line of sight.  
“How are you, Mister Ibuki? It's unusual to see you here!”  
“I'm fine…” A pause. “It's cold outside.”  
“Oh! I'm sorry.” The bell rang again as the door closed. Thankfully, Chrono was just getting his yarn under the counter, everything safely hidden. “It's much warmer inside, isn't it?”  
Chrono busied himself with the computer. A mere second later, Taiyou and Ibuki walked into view; he turned and gave him a smile that he hoped looked genuine.  
There were snowflakes scattered on his hair and collar, and he had to resist the urge to go brush them away and fuss over him in general.  
He really was done for.  
“Chrono,” Ibuki simply said.  
“Hey,” Chrono called back, an actual warm smile replacing his first one. There was something about Ibuki's blunt, genuine openness that always made him melt in seconds.  
Ibuki smiled back, and for a moment they just looked at each other in silence, the warmth spreading through Chrono's chest as if the shop itself had been deadly cold before. Then, Ibuki looked away, eyes flitting to the side just for a second.  
“I came to see Nitta about the new shop tournament event…”  
“Oh, he's out right now but he should be back in… five to fifteen minutes?”  
“… that's fine. I can wait.”  
In truth, whatever he had to say could probably be sent by email, or even phone, and Ibuki probably didn't need to come in person. But if he was starting to actually indulge himself, well… Chrono wasn't about to complain.  
“… are your hands okay?” he asked, finally caving and moving close to him to check on him. His nose looked cold too. “Let me treat you to something.”  
“It's all right—”  
Before he could say more, Chrono ran off to the coffee machine, coming back with a warm cup.  
“There. You should wear gloves more often,” he pointed out, although without any harshness. “You'll actually get frostbite this way one of these days.”  
“I don't like gloves,” Ibuki muttered, but he rubbed his hands against the cup anyway, breathing into it to make the steam rise to his face. “… thank you.”  
“No problem.”  
With the heat from the coffee warming his already cold-flushed skin, he was starting to look very pink. It was an adorable sight, actually, and Chrono sometimes had trouble believing that he'd once thought the man cold.  
Neither of them really gave an accurate first impression to strangers.  
“It really is cold out there,” Taiyou said. “I wonder if we'll get snow…”  
“Hopefully not during the week… I hate biking in the snow,” Chrono muttered.  
“It's inconvenient,” Ibuki agreed, “… but pretty.”  
“… it'd be nice for an actual walk, yeah,” Chrono said with a slight smile.  
He was still arguing with himself on whether he was supposed to follow that with an invitation when Shin walked back into the store, hauling a cardboard box.  
“Chrono! Can you help me with this?”  
“On it!” Chrono called, and he hurried to the door to take the box from him.

As Shin and Ibuki sat and discussed the tournaments, Chrono busied himself with work, first checking the computer for new emails that didn't actually appear, and then helping some customers that finally came in. The temptation to either take out his work or go sit with the two of them was strong, but the first one was obviously out of the question, and he felt like he'd probably betray himself with the second one.  
Some time later, as he was re-arranging some booster packs that were already perfectly tidy, Ibuki came up to him.  
“We're done… I should go back to the branch.”  
“Ah… yeah. It was nice to see you though.”  
“Thanks for the coffee…” He trailed off. “… Chrono, is something wrong?”  
“Huh?”  
“When I came in earlier, you seemed… unusually tense. And even now…”  
Instantly, guilt twisted at his chest. Ibuki was often blind to those details, but it seemed that when it came to him, he always paid the utmost attention. He should have known better than to be that transparent and worry him.  
“Oh… no, I'm fine, don't worry. I've just been… kinda stressed.”  
Ibuki nodded.  
“Then… I'll see you.”  
“Yeah…” On impulse, before Ibuki could go, he reached for his hand, discretion be damned. “Wait!”  
Ibuki stopped. Chrono gripped his hand a little tighter.  
“… do you have anything planned next Thursday?”  
Ibuki's eyes went wide.  
“… no,” he answered quietly. “Not aside from work.”  
Chrono's throat and heart tightened. If his other friends hadn't gotten there first, then maybe…  
Maybe he could be selfish and daring for once.  
“Then… can you meet me after work?”  
A breath, and then Ibuki's face flushed a little again, a smile sliding onto his lips a second later.  
“Of course.”  
Chrono's heart hammered against his ears. He was probably as red as his hair by now.  
“Okay. Okay. Then—I'll meet you then. I'll text you so we can meet up somewhere. Okay?”  
“Okay,” he answered with a quiet smile. Then: “Are you coming to the Dragon Empire event this weekend?”  
“Oh—the mini-tournament? Yeah I'll be there.”  
“I'll see you there, then.”  
He squeezed Chrono's hand lightly, but didn't move. It took Chrono a while to realise that he was waiting for Chrono to let him go.  
Reluctantly and a little guilty at the rush the thought brought him, Chrono let go of his hand.  
“… yeah. I'll see you this weekend.”

As Ibuki closed the door behind him and went down the stairs, Taiyou came back to the counter where Chrono was still flushed enough to combat the bitter cold.  
“Congratulations!”  
“I—what—listen,”  
“Did you not invite him on a date?” Taiyou asked, the perfect picture of innocence.  
“… I did more than that,” Chrono sighed, the tension starting to drain out of him.  
“More than… oh!” He brightened. “… _congratulations._ ”  
“I'm… I'm gonna have to bake something.”  
“Will you have time to?”  
“If I do it the night before, yeah… I'll just have to hurry on with this. I need to be finished ahead of time so I have time to wrap it properly and take care of this…”  
“Maybe you should hurry, then,” Taiyou suggested helpfully.  
“I—yeah.” He paused. “… can you check that he's not coming back?”  
Taiyou smiled.

In the end, even with the Dragon Empire event (why did he let himself get dragged into so many things when his timetable was already so busy), the scarf was finished by the next Tuesday. Or, to be precise, he'd reached the end the previous evening, and then panicked at the idea of messing up the end and brought it back to school the next day so Kumi could help him finish it off neatly.  
The end result was… acceptable. The uneven stitches of his first weeks made him wince (would Ibuki even want to wear it?), but over time, as you ran down the length of it—and it was a very long scarf, so Ibuki could wrap it several times and keep his face warm and safe—it became neater and more even. Near the end, it could almost look like something he'd have bought.  
“… there's no way to undo that end and fix it, is there?” he sighed, staring at it.  
“Tsk, tsk, Chrono, don't undo your own hard work. That progress is proof of the love you put into it!”  
“I'd rather show it by giving him something that looks like I cared about making him something _good_ ,” he muttered.  
“It does. Nothing handmade is ever perfect, even if your lunches might have given you some warped standards.”  
Kazuma snorted, and helped himself from the shared box too.  
“She's right, though. Handmade stuff's always a bit irregular, but people still get excited over it. He'll know you put a lot of effort into it. That's what matters.”  
“… I guess.”  
“Try to be a little less perfectionist,” he teased.  
“That's fun coming from _you_ , Mister Actually-Got-A-Hundred-On-His-Math-Test.”  
Kazuma looked away.  
“It was easy, okay…”  
“So when are you going to give it to him?” Kumi asked.  
“Well… I actually managed to invite him out on his birthday proper, so… Thursday.”  
“Oh my,” Kumi said, hiding her mouth and leaning closer to him. “So are you going back to his place, hmmm?”  
“Wh—no!” There he was, blushing again. At this rate he wouldn't even feel the cold anymore. “I'm just taking him out for cake! And even if we did, it's none of your business!”  
“Have you never seen it before?” Kazuma asked, sounding, in his defense, genuinely curious.  
“I have, but—Kumi I _know_ what you're implying and it's not like that, okay.”  
“Aww. What a shame.”  
“Do you need some encouragement?” Kazuma asked with a smirk of his own.  
“No, I need you two to stop teasing me so I don't make a fool of myself on Thursday by suddenly thinking about it and blushing again!”  
Kumi giggled, but the two of them sat back, leaving his personal space alone. He sighed in relief.  
“Seriously, though, do you not want to?” Kazuma asked, more seriously this time.  
“… kinda. If I stop to really think about it, then yeah I do, but I never actually think about it. So it's never really come up. I think it's just… not something we really need right now. Maybe someday.”  
He expected teasing, but both of them just nodded, a softer smile on Kumi's lips.  
“Well, I'm sure he'll be very happy with your present,” she said, hanging the scarf back to him. “Keep it safe until then.”  
Chrono carefully wrapped it in its bag, covering the needles and leftover yarn. Now that it was actually knitted, it felt both fluffy and squishy; it would be comfortable to wear, at least, and _that_ was something he was happy with.  
“Okay. All set.”  
“And if you _do_ get somewhere, we can go eat somewhere to celebrate!” She added with a grin.  
“ _Kumi!_ ”

That night, he went to ask Mikuru for help. The next day, after he got out of work, they went out to hunt for some nice wrapping and baking supplies.  
As they stepped out of the shop, a first few snowflakes made their way down from the sky and onto his face.  
He stared up. In the twilight of the always lit city, the snowflakes danced in the sky like particles of light.  
_It's inconvenient… but pretty._  
As soon as he got home, he pulled out his phone.

They met on the bridge, long after the last brushes of pink had left the night sky. Late January wasn't as dark as New Year's, but both of them lived busy lives, and going home with the sun in winter was something of the past for them, a distant memory of childhood.  
But despite the cold, the streetlights, life of the city around them, and satisfaction of getting out of work and going home to each other brought more than enough warmth.  
Ibuki, to his surprise, was early.  
“Hey!” Chrono called, holding back the urge to run to him. He didn't want his cake box to tip and damage the contents. Especially with the snow still making the pavement damp and slippery.  
“Hey,” Ibuki answered quietly as he reached him. He was smiling, quiet but warm and happy, and Chrono felt himself start to melt already. The evening had barely just started! “Where are we going?”  
“Well, since it's snowing, I thought maybe you'd want to take a walk… it'll probably have melted by the time you get another chance to really look at it…”  
“That's true,” he said, and he sounded actually touched. Chrono was going to _die_. “Lead the way, then.”  
“Yeah—um—this way.”  
He started walking, Ibuki following at his side, then stopped, and on an impulse that felt all too familiar, reached to take his hand.  
Once more, it was bare. Chrono hesitated for a second, then took off his own glove and took firm hold of his hand, shoving both of them down his coat pocket.  
“Let's go,” he said, refusing to look at him until his face would look a little less red.  
Silently, Ibuki followed.

At night, the river felt like an island of quiet, the noise of the streets coming muffled as if distant. It felt like leaving a party behind and walking together towards empty fields.  
Ibuki never took his hand out of Chrono's pocket.  
“… I thought if it was gonna stay anywhere, it'd be here,” Chrono said, grateful that his reasoning had been right. On the streets proper, the snow had been cleaned, and what still fell down melted quickly under the feet and tires of all the people just living their lives. But here, it stayed, on the grassy slopes and on the very edge of the path, even on the railing sometimes. With the way it still fell idly over them, it felt like a blanketing curtain, not covering the ground but rather wrapping all around them.  
Ibuki was right. It _was_ beautiful.  
“I hadn't stopped to enjoy the snow in years,” Ibuki said quietly.  
A little breathless, Chrono squeezed his hand.  
“Good thing I invited you then, huh?”  
The smile Ibuki gave him reached even his voice.  
“Absolutely.”  
“… I've always wanted to make a snowman,” Chrono confessed.  
“You've never made one?”  
He shook his head.  
“The one year we really had enough for one, I was in the orphanage… I could've gone out to play with the other kids, but…”  
But he'd been too depressed, and had just sat on his bed for most of the day. When he finally decided to go out, the next day, the other children had already made an impressive one, and the idea of making his own smaller one felt ridiculous compared to it.  
“… and then when I grew up I just never had time,” he concluded.  
“Hm. Maybe next year we should go somewhere.”  
“Huh?”  
“I have a few days off for the New Year… you'll want to spend the actual day with your Aunt, I think, but we could leave for the next two days… It doesn't take that long by train.”  
“That… that'd be nice,” he breathed, head spinning not just because Ibuki wanted to indulge his snowman thoughts enough to go out of his way to make them happen but because _he wanted to go somewhere together._ A holiday together.  
Time for the two of them only, without worrying about schedules or work or anyone else. Time to spend purely on enjoying being with each other.  
It felt like such a luxury. But at the same time, Ibuki wanting it felt like a step in the right direction.  
Learning to take time for oneself, learning when to stop working, stop trying, stop thinking you owed the world your best effort all the time, learning to be kind to yourself, that was part of adulthood too.  
In a strange way, he felt proud.  
“… thank you for inviting me tonight,” Ibuki said quietly. “… I was hoping you would,” he added, not looking at him.  
“O-oh.” Chrono squeezed his hand. “… I was worried it'd be intruding too much.”  
“No. It made me happy.” He paused. “… you would have been my priority anyway.”  
“Oh.” The thought settled into his stomach, heavy but warm. “… I'll remember that.”  
Maybe he was the one who didn't trust himself enough.

They passed by a bench, and Chrono finally remembered what else he'd invited him for.  
“Hang on—let's sit here.”  
“Hm?”  
“C'mon, trust me!”  
Ibuki nodded and followed him to the bench, finally pulling his hand back once Chrono released him to wipe the thin layer of snow off.  
Chrono put his cake box down, put his glove back on, then pulled his picnic bundle out of his bag, spreading a napkin with two cardboard plates, plastic forks and cups out, and putting his thermos of warm coffee down next to it.  
The cake box opened to an already cut opera cake, its two rectangles sitting neatly on their circles of paper lace, and Chrono felt a little jolt of pride at the way Ibuki's eyes widened.  
“Hope that's not too much coffee in one go,” he joked.  
“No one will know if you don't tell them,” Ibuki replied, smiling, and he laughed at the self-aware teasing. They both knew the vices they shared.  
“Oh, and also...”  
He pulled his carefully wrapped present out of his bag.  
“Happy Birthday, Kouji,” he murmured, handing it to him. “… I hope it's good,” he added, self-conscious.  
“Can I open it?”  
“… yeah. Go ahead.”  
Ibuki pulled on the ribbon, then delicately unfolded and lifted the wrapping, one fold at a time until he could open the whole thing without damaging the paper.  
When it finally fell open, he stared at the scarf in silence.  
“… is… is it bad?”  
“You made this?” Ibuki asked, voiced choked and almost inaudible, and it took Chrono several stunned seconds to notice that there were tears in his eyes.  
“Yeah, I—hey, are you okay?”  
“Yes. Yes, I'm fine, I—thank you.” He took in a shaky breath. “… thank you.”  
Chrono bent a little closer.  
“Hey,” he murmured, “it's okay…”  
He reached for his face to brush the tears away. Ibuki's eyes rose to meet his, still wet and burning with something that he'd seen once before in his life and still took his breath away.  
And before he could react, Ibuki bent down and across their makeshift table and kissed him.  
For a moment, Chrono stayed frozen. His mind ran itself into frantic circles because _Ibuki was kissing him_ , Ibuki was actually _initiating_ a kiss, and it was passionate and grateful and determined and—and _inviting_ , he realised with a shudder, and that was when his body and heart kicked in, and in a heartbeat he was bringing his hand back to Ibuki's cheek, to his hair, to his nape, holding him in place and deepening the kiss and drinking in the happy, intoxicating little exhale Ibuki gave when he did.  
When they finally broke apart, he didn't feel cold anymore.  
“… I think I've found a new hobby,” he murmured, babbling to let the feeling sink in.  
“Thank you,” Ibuki said again. “I'll wear it.”  
And as if to prove his point, he wrapped the scarf around his neck, twice. There was still plenty hanging, and Chrono gave himself a mental pat on the back in satisfaction.  
“Glad you like it,” he grinned quietly.  
“I want to try your cake,” Ibuki answered.  
“Oh. Right. Here you go.”  
He carefully slid one of the cakes onto Ibuki's plate, paper and all, then did the same with his own, and folded the box to recycle it later.  
Ibuki took his fork, cut away a piece of the cake, and put it into his mouth, closing his eyes in pleasure.  
_Yes!_  
Well. The scarf was a success. The cake was a success. The snow walk was a success. Maybe he was actually getting somewhere.  
“So if I knit you a jumper next year, will you actually wear it?” he teased.  
Ibuki looked at him with all the focus and seriousness of a man taking an oath.  
“For you, I will.”  
And that was the moment Chrono knew he was done for for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> And then Chrono brings him home, but still not in the way Kumi meant.


End file.
